


inevitability

by lilritz



Category: LunchClub, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24336214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilritz/pseuds/lilritz
Summary: Schlatt expected the phone lines to go any day now.He had come to accept it, though.=A world in which; shit hits the fan
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30





	inevitability

April 12th

Every day is a cycle. Wake up, eat, call everyone, record, sleep, repeat. Other than the occasional updates from the government, and the daily phone calls, nothing eventful has happened for weeks. 

And every single day he runs lower and lower on supplies. He's fine on water for now. But he's running out of food. Which means he has two options;  
starve to death, or leave the safety of his home and get more. Neither of which he particularly wants. 

He decides to risk it and go outside. It's not that it's necessarily a hazard zone like other places, but he decided it's better to be safe than sorry.

The city is a ghost town. He sees next to no one on the roads as he drives to his local Walmart. The usual sounds of the city have diminished into nothingness after everything went on lockdown. It's unnerving. Too quiet for his liking.  
As if he was on autopilot, he parks his station wagon in the parking lot.

Upon walking in, it's almost comforting to see other people. Although it would've been more pleasant if there was anything on the shelves. Because they are almost entirely empty. 

Get in get out. That's the plan. 

He gets what he needs, pays, and leaves. 

===

April 25th

He mindlessly pressed the buttons on his phone, dialling the same numbers in the same order he had for weeks. The first call he made was to his Mother. 

She didn't pick up.

He brushed it off and left her a message. 

He called Charlie next. 

He waited again. 

He doesn't pick up either. 

I'm sure it's just a coincidence. 

Repeating the process, he called Wilbur. And yet again, he was met with static at the other end of the line. 

Shit.

Frantically fumbling with his phone, he dialled Carson. 

Static.

Then he called Ted.

Static. 

Noah. 

Static. 

The lines had been cut. 

Fuck.

He slid down his wall, slumping onto cold hardwood. He balled his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white.  
His fingernails threatened to puncture his palms. 

”Fuck!” He sputtered out, his voice breaking.

He thought he had come to accept the inevitable. that he’d eventually never hear from anyone again. But he wasn't expecting it to happen so soon. Everything came crashing down, and realization was setting in. Everyone he had come to love and treasure, were gone. He’ll never hear their voices, let alone see them again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is purely a work of fiction, and the people in the story have been played up as their characters. 
> 
> Criticism is appreciated. :]


End file.
